He That Riseth Betimes Hath Some Thing

Presse A Stick, And It Seemes A Youth.

Sweet Rose, Whose Hue, Angry And Brave, Bids The Rash Gazer Wipe His Eye, Thy Root Is Even In The Grave, And Thou Must Die.

To A Greedy Eating Horse A Short Halter.

Old Wine, And An Old Friend, Are Good Provisions.

The Wise Hand Doth Not All That The Foolish Mouth Speakes. [the Wise Hand Doth Not All That The Foolish Mouth Speaks.]